


The Days and Nights That Unite Us

by FoxRafer



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-25
Updated: 2010-10-25
Packaged: 2017-10-30 04:57:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/327996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxRafer/pseuds/FoxRafer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for <a href="http://stormatdusk.livejournal.com/"><b>stormatdusk</b></a> for the <a href="http://sons-of-gondor.livejournal.com/"><b>sons_of_gondor</b></a> Trick or Treat Exchange. Besides the obvious, I'm sure I'm mucking with timelines and things. The title is stolen (and slightly adapted) from Pablo Neruda: "And one by one the nights between our separated cities are joined to the night that unites us."</p>
    </blockquote>





	The Days and Nights That Unite Us

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [**stormatdusk**](http://stormatdusk.livejournal.com/) for the [**sons_of_gondor**](http://sons-of-gondor.livejournal.com/) Trick or Treat Exchange. Besides the obvious, I'm sure I'm mucking with timelines and things. The title is stolen (and slightly adapted) from Pablo Neruda: "And one by one the nights between our separated cities are joined to the night that unites us."

Karl's first day was blustery and rain-soaked, clouds hanging thick and heavy in the sky, and he slowly wandered around the set, quietly settling into the Rohirrim's skin. After a few random introductions he found himself standing in front of Viggo, half hidden behind Aragorn's eyes. Hands extended, palms clasped, and suddenly the man beneath the Ranger burst through like an inferno. Karl felt consumed by molten steel, discovered a burning need for the sensation. It caught him off guard, the inevitability in that moment.

Viggo didn't say hello, gave no real greeting of any kind, merely shook Karl's hand and said "Éomer" in a low and solemn voice. Then all vestiges of Aragorn disappeared, and Karl's vision filled with a big toothy smile and gentle, persuasive eyes. Drawn forward, undeniably pulled toward this inscrutable connection, his mind raced to catch up, to make sense of the path that abruptly appeared before him. But a flurry of activity, Viggo suddenly called away, and Karl found himself standing on the edge of a precipice staring at a future he'd never imagined until Viggo's flash and flame knocked the world off its axis.

It had been too long since they'd seen each other, but instinctively, without hesitation, Karl's hand found its home, and after so many months apart to Viggo it was like being branded, searing his skin, marking his flesh. Viggo felt claimed, as if Karl was announcing their union to the world. Viggo couldn't stop smiling, couldn't stop the surge of emotions, wouldn't stop them even if he could.

He leaned into Karl's warmth and captured the moment on film, snapped several shots just to prolong the contact. Karl moved closer still, a quiet seduction, absolute and irresistible; a gentle, almost companionable, press that promised more intimacy, more urgency, in the hours to come. Viggo took one more picture, slid his own hand even further down, felt the answering shiver in Karl's body. He wondered how long they could get away with standing here, joined from head to toe, ignoring the sea of reporters and fans.

After the recent mad rush of activity, spending the day with Viggo's friend Ryo was a welcome change. It was well after midnight and they had been sitting around the table for hours, empty bottles of whiskey the instigators of a drunken game of dominoes. The rules shifted as abruptly as the conversation, and Karl was content to mostly be an observer, listening to Viggo and Ryo's stories, enjoying their memories and laughter, learning more about the inimitable Viggo mystic before _Rings_ introduced it to the world. And all the while the steady push of Viggo's thigh against his own, the occasional curl of toes across his foot.

Despite the cold outside and slight chill of the room, Karl felt like he was on a slow burn. Viggo's heat spread through him, building in intensity, and his body craved more. It was like a drug, his desire, filling him completely, leaving room for nothing but Viggo. Karl let himself drift on it, opened himself to the hunger, until he swore he could feel time slowing to let this moment stretch on forever. Then Viggo slung an arm across his shoulders, a welcome weight that managed to both inflame and ground him, and Karl refocused on the room and the nonsensical game, letting the alcohol have precedence until he and Viggo could be alone.

The sun was just beginning to rise and Viggo stretched, deliberately knocking Karl's feet off his lap, smiling at the half-hearted protest. He looked up at the sky, streaks of color streamed through cotton candy clouds pulled thin by the wind; so different from the day they first met. It was good to be back in New Zealand, another home to him now, the place where so many unbelievable things began.

He stood and breathed in deeply, let his eyes cast over the pale, mist-covered land that surrounded them, then turned to watch the man who was watching him. Karl sat sprawled on the bench, all loose limbs and barely contained power, a casual intensity that Viggo always found intoxicating. He man-handled Karl to his feet, pulled him forward into a demanding kiss, forced him back into the house. He felt heady with lust, devouring Karl's feral grin as he wordlessly and completely submitted to Viggo's hands and body. And when they were both breathless and sated, Karl curled around Viggo heavy with sleep, Viggo thought of long ago decisions, choices that set him along this path, and the inescapable and miraculous truths that united them.


End file.
